Inverse
by Misanagi
Summary: Quatre rescues Dorothy from imprisonment, hoping to give her a new chance of living. 3x4x3, DxR
1. Chapter 1

Inverse  
  
By Misanagi  
  
Rating: PG 13  
  
Warnings: Angst, violence, shonen-ai, shojo-ai.  
  
Pairings: 3+4+3, D+R  
  
Spoilers: The end of the series.  
  
Timeline: After the battle of Libra.  
  
Summary: Quatre rescues Dorothy from imprisonment, hoping to give her a new chance of living.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
  
Archives: http://www.fanfiction.net/~Misanagi http://www.psinergy.com/dryerspace/gundaniumline/misanagi/misanagi.html  
  
Feedback: Yes please! misanagi_zzzz@hotmail.com   
  
Thanks to: Anne and Ruth for beta reading and all the helpful suggestions, you are the best!  
  
Notes: I wrote this for Hex-sama and her mailing list, Lady Wing. (http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/Lady_Wing/)  
  
===========================================  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The young man walked through the iron gates and into the dark room. He tried to stop himself from limping but now and then the pain in his side was too strong to ignore. Two armed Romefeller soldiers walked behind him, but kept their distance. They didn't know exactly who he was but there was something about him that radiated power.  
  
It had been only a week since that last battle with Libra and things were still in virtual chaos. The Romefeller troops went wild after the death of their leader but before they could disperse and start another power struggle, Colonel Une took command of the troops and prevented any possible insubordination. The war was just ending and the remaining troops still needed a commander. Between Relena Peacecraft and the Colonel, the task of restoring peace in a broken world had started but God knew that was a difficult task.   
  
The teenager was no stranger to the situation the world was facing and he realized that if he wanted to complete the task, he could not stay in the hospital bed. He would have to do it by himself. Some of the guilt he had pushed away was reappearing. The teen couldn't help thinking of his friends; he knew they would be very worried when they found that he was missing. He had left a note, but knowing his friends, they would go looking for him, note or no note. The guilt was pushed aside for the tenth time. The youth wasn't proud of escaping from his hospital bed and stealing a Taurus suit to go to this ship but he knew that if he'd asked his friends they would have said no and even tied him to the bed to prevent him from leaving.   
  
He looked at his watch and estimated that he had another two hours before they found out that he was missing, and another fifteen minutes before they realized where he had gone. After all, he hadn't been overly careful when he had stolen that suit. It wasn't his injuries that bothered him; it was all the medication that was still in his system and made all of his movements slower and more difficult. He was sure that no civilian would detect it but for the Gundam pilots, he had left a trail as easy to follow as a yellow brick road. They would track him down in no time and discover that he was in the Romefeller ship number 01517, also know as the temporary holding compound for those suspected of war crimes.   
  
The boy smiled sadly. He didn't doubt that it would only take some time before he was a resident instead of a visitor on that ship. The war had ended but after being a terrorist, he knew that there would come a time when he would have to pay for his actions - that was why waiting was not an option. The matter needed to be resolved before it was too late and his name was no longer a tool he could use. He had made himself as presentable as possible but his body was covered in bruises and his weakness could be seen by the way in which he walked. Someone in his condition should be resting in the medical wing of MO II, not venturing through space.  
  
At the end of the hall there was a middle aged man sitting behind a desk. He was wearing a Romefeller uniform and the twin straps on his shoulders showed that he was a captain. His feet were resting on top of the table; one of his hands was holding a cigarette while the other held a glass filled with something that looked like water but smelled like vodka. When he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, he looked up, fixing his brown eyes on the youngster and lowering his glass to the table.   
  
"Who are you?" he asked with a tone that implied that he was annoyed by the visit.  
  
The boy regarded the captain with a steady gaze; his soft aquamarine eyes piercing though him.  
  
"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner."   
  
* * *  
  
Quatre noticed that he looked more intimidating than the older and bigger man in front of him. "I came here to negotiate the release of one of your prisoners." He said; his voice held an authority that could also be seen in his posture, his demeanor and the way in which he spoke. Quatre Winner was a businessman and his young age was in no way, an obstacle to perform any task.  
  
"And what makes you think you have the power to free any prisoner?" the captain asked, in a neutral tone.   
  
Quatre smirked at him, "I came here to make a deal with you." He paused a moment to create some tension and to evaluate the way in which the man in front of him reacted to his words. His father's voice echoed in his head, 'The pause is a sign of power and control. It lets your opponent know that you are in charge and that they are lucky to do business with you.' After he saw the captain eyes shine with curiosity he continued, "I offer to pay bail and to take responsibility of any charges the prisoner may be accused of."  
  
"And who is this prisoner?" asked the captain, already lured by the idea of making some money.  
  
"Miss Dorothy Catalonia."  
  
The man kept looking at Quatre for a moment but finally decided to look for the prisoner's file. He used an old computer terminal and moments later the information was displayed on screen. "Dorothy Catalonia was found at the destructed Libra, virtually unharmed. She was taken into custody with the rest of the Libra crew but refused to give us any information besides her name." The captain looked back at Quatre like he was hoping that the youth would give them some more information about the girl, but Quatre remained silent.   
  
"What is your interest in the prisoner?" continued the captain, after waiting for a moment.  
  
"That's not something I want to disclose," replied Quatre with a tone that left no room for argument.   
  
"You don't seem to understand, Mr. Winner," said the captain, unable to call the young man in front of him anything but that. "I would be putting myself on the line to help you so I think I deserve-"  
  
"You will be compensated for your efforts," said Quatre, interrupting the man. "Name your price."  
  
The man smirked. "I can see you don't like to beat around the bush so I'll do the same. I want fifty thousand credits transferred to my personal account."  
  
"Agreed," answered Quatre immediately. "I'll just need to accompany Miss Catalonia to a mobile suit that I will preprogram. After she is out of the ship's range, I will transfer the money."  
  
"Certainly," said the man smiling, "but I still have another problem. One of the prisoners can't simply disappear so I'll need a… replacement for Miss Catalonia."  
  
"I'll be willing to stay here in her place."  
  
Quatre could see that the captain was curious about him and his motives but the older man's greed kept him from asking more questions. Quatre knew the type: when an opportunity knocked on their door they weren't about to close it.   
  
* * *  
  
Those stupid soldiers had easily forgotten who she was. She wouldn't had been Milliardo's right hand if she wasn't a capable woman. The men's advances were tiring her. They were annoying and kept interrupting when she needed to think.   
  
She removed her foot from the man's head, sent a threatening glare to the rest of the male soldiers, and went back to her spot against the wall. After she was at a safe distance, some of the man's friends helped him up and dragged him to the other side of the large cell. He had been really stupid; all of them had witnessed what she had done to the last one who had tried to touch her. Now he probably had a concussion on top of a broken wrist.   
  
Dorothy rested her cuffed hands on her lap and closed her eyes, resuming her thinking. She wondered where Quatre was and if he was all right. Sometimes she wished that he was and sometimes she wished that he was dying painfully in a hospital bed. He confused her so much. Dorothy hated how she couldn't stop thinking about him; it made her reflect about herself and that's what she hated the most. She was feeling more than she had in years and that bothered her.  
  
After a lot of work, the young woman had managed to ignore the rest of the world. She felt apathy for the people around her but Quatre had somehow gotten under her skin. It wasn't like what had happened with Miss Relena - she had gotten used to the calm and serenity she felt around the former queen of the world - but with Quatre everything was different.   
  
Tears hadn't been shed from her eyes but Trowa's words were stuck firmly in her mind. Crying was useless, crying didn't help, crying didn't get anything done; it was nothing more than a sign of weakness. Dorothy had made a vow to herself when she was younger - she refused to cry and she wasn't about to break it. Not for a war, not for her grandfather's death and definitely not for a sentimental blond pilot. Understanding him was impossible for her; she couldn't conceive how a person like that existed and couldn't begin to comprehend what he was doing in a war. There was no place for feelings in a war; to be compassionate meant death.   
  
'But he lived,' said that little voice in her head, the one she was trying to avoid so much and that lately was only getting stronger. That was the part of her that couldn't hate Quatre Winner for what he had done. When he had pleaded for her life a small ray of hope had entered her heart, a hope for humanity that she thought she didn't have any more. It wasn't all his fault, Relena had helped a lot too. The way the young diplomat kept hoping for peace, even when she had been given a front row seat for some of the biggest battles in the war, had affected Dorothy as much as a caring terrorist.   
  
It was not the way the world was supposed to be.  
  
Dorothy had learned at a young age how the world worked. She was ten when her father died and eleven when her mother committed suicide. That had taught a child the way of the world. When she was twelve she had found a key to the school psychologist's private files and spent a few hours reading hers. Most of the documents were studies made when she was little; complicated analyses of a picture she had drawn when she was three or evaluations of her linguistic capabilities based on some interview made long ago. The last entry, however, was only a year old and a short one. "The child seems to have accepted well the death of her parents."   
  
That single sentence caused her months of pondering about herself and how she was viewed by others. Yes, she had accepted that people died, that was a truth about life that everyone has to accept at some point, but that didn't mean that she had forgotten her parents. It was around that time when she realized why seeing a father with a young child always made her nostalgic and jealous. Dorothy knew that she was viewed as a cold person because she didn't want to show her pain and eventually she buried it where it wouldn't bother her any more. She stopped caring; she detached herself from the world around her and became a spectator watching life the way she would do a show, and waiting impatiently for the exciting parts that would make her feel even a shadow of what she had buried long ago. Some part of her wanted to feel again even if it meant that the pain would return too. That was the part that kept dragging the thought of Quatre Winner into her mind. Quatre was everything she was not and all she secretly wanted to be.  
  
* * *  
  
After he was led into the deeper parts of the ship, Quatre could tell why they had decided that it would be good to use it as a detention center. The ship had been used to transport mobile dolls, and since most of them had been destroyed in battle, the space could be used for other purposes. The ship was equipped with large storerooms that could accommodate a large amount of people. Some technicians always traveled with the mobile dolls so the large rooms also had sanitary facilities. There were only two ways to exit the room. The first was a set of metallic doors that needed an electronic key to be opened and the lock was on the outside of the room. Those doors led to the rest of the ship. The second was one iron gate that could only be opened from the inside of the storeroom. It led outside, in other words, to outer space. The prisoners were effectively locked in.   
  
The man Quatre was following stopped in front of a metallic door. Quatre watched him take the electronic key from the breast pocket of his uniform and use it to unlock the entry. The door beeped and then slid open automatically.   
  
Without going in, Quatre looked inside. The large room was filled with approximately one hundred men and women. There were no beds but the floor was covered with mattresses and blankets. Some of the prisoners turned to the door while others just ignored it. They were tired; Quatre could see it in their eyes. He noticed that everyone had their hands cuffed in front of them. There didn't seem to be enough blankets to go around but each prisoner wore a set of cuffs.  
  
"Is that really necessary?" Quatre asked, gesturing to the hands of a woman nearby.  
  
"It prevents them from fighting among themselves," answered the captain. Before Quatre could say anything else the captain took a step into the room and called, "Dorothy Catalonia, outside."  
  
Quatre hadn't seen her before because she was sitting on a far wall, where the shadows hid her from view. He noticed her when she stood up and started walking towards them. Her long blonde hair was tied in a braid and she still wore the uniform she had when he had last seen her. She kept her chin up and walked with the air of superiority that had always distinguished her from others.   
  
When she was near the door, a man tried to jump at her from behind. "You'll pay for breaking my wrist!" he screamed as he launched at her.  
  
Quatre resisted the urge to hit his forehead at the man's lack of tactic and stealth. Who screamed when attempting a surprise attack? Not that the man's outburst had actually harmed him since Dorothy had noticed him way before. Quatre had to admit that the girl had skills. She easily deflected the blow aimed to her head and hit the man in the back of the head with her cuffed hands.   
  
There was a moment of silence in the room. The captain beside Quatre took out his gun and pointed it to the fallen man.   
  
"Catalonia, outside! And if anybody else tries to interfere they'll have a nice bullet wound for their efforts."   
  
Quatre exited the room and decided to wait for her outside. He didn't know what kind of reaction he could expect from Dorothy; she wasn't as easy to predict as some people thought.  
  
* * *  
  
Dorothy saw him as soon as she exited the holding room and was frozen for a second. She just looked at him and tried to sort all the conflicted thoughts that ran through her head in that moment. It took her only another second to push everything aside and adopt the controlled mask she always wore.   
  
"Quatre Winner, I see you recovered just fine." There was not a note of emotion in her voice; it was an even tone that showed absolutely nothing.  
  
"Yes, thank you for asking," answered Quatre, adopting the same tone.  
  
"I can only wonder what brings you here."  
  
"You, of course."  
  
Dorothy wasn't expecting that. That simple statement brought all the confusion back to her head. "Me?" she asked, hiding her thoughts behind her neutral tone.  
  
"I negotiated your release."  
  
Now, Dorothy was angry. Quatre had the ability to make her angrier that she ever remembered being. He was a contradiction; he couldn't be that way. She had tried to kill him and he repaid her by pleading for her life and then saving her from imprisonment. A person like that couldn't exist; if he did, her whole universe would fall apart. She could feel that glass wall that she had been building for years crack. Quatre Winner was trying to shatter it and he was succeeding.   
  
"Why?" she asked; her even tone was gone and the doubts she was feeling were leaking into her voice.   
  
"Because there's still hope for you, Dorothy, but this isn't the place to find it." He smiled sadly at her and took her hand. She let him do it, and felt all the anger disappear slowly, leaving her tired, too tired to argue, too tired to think. There would be time to do that later. Dorothy felt her cuffs being unlocked and as soon as that happened, she let go of Quatre's hand. She may have been tired and she may have been confused but she was still Dorothy Catalonia and quite capable of taking care of herself.  
  
"Don't expect me to repay you for this," she told Quatre, regaining the cool of her voice. He nodded as she knew he would. If he was a normal person he would ask or at least expect something but he was Quatre Winner and he defied everything that she defined as normal.   
  
They followed the captain to the only room that was still being used as a hangar in the ship. Quatre walked to the suit he had used to get to the ship and motioned for Dorothy to follow him.   
  
"You won't need to pilot it," he told her. "It's already preprogrammed to take you to MO II. From there, you can go wherever you want."  
  
Dorothy nodded to him and got into the suit. Quatre reached in and pressed a special command followed by a password.  
  
"Goodbye, Dorothy," he said as the hatched closed. She didn't answer.  
  
* * *  
  
It took a couple of minutes before the Taurus was launched and disappeared from view. Quatre kept looking at space, thinking about Dorothy and hoping that she could find the answers to the questions he knew were plaguing her.   
  
"I believe we still have some business to attend to, Mr. Winner," said the captain, interrupting Quatre's thoughts.   
  
"Certainly," replied Quatre turning around. "Shall we?"  
  
* * *  
  
Dorothy sat in the cockpit of the Taurus, looking at the space. She felt like she was looking at it for the first time; it seemed so… peaceful. She couldn't see the glowing lights of a battle or the rapid movements of mobile suits. The only things left to see were the remains of the biggest battle the world had ever seen. Everything was confusing, even space. Space felt lonely; nothing had ever felt lonely before. Dorothy closed her eyes, she was tired of thinking and right then, she didn't see the point of it. Nothing made sense anymore.   
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter 2

Inverse  
  
By Misanagi  
  
Rating: PG 13  
  
Warnings: Angst, language  
  
Pairings: 3+4+3, R+D  
  
Spoilers: The end of the series.  
  
Timeline: After the battle of Libra.  
  
Summary: Quatre rescues Dorothy from imprisonment, hoping to give her a new chance of living.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.  
  
Archives: http://www.fanfiction.net/~Misanagi,  
  
- http://www.psinergy.com/dryerspace/gundaniumline/misanagi/misanagi.html  
  
Feedback: Yes please! misanagi_zzz@hotmail.com   
  
Notes: I wrote this for Hex-sama and her mailing list, Lady Wing. (http://ca.groups.yahoo.com/group/Lady_Wing/)  
  
Big thanks to Anne and Ruth for beta reading this for me.   
  
"Blah" = Talk  
  
'Blah' = Thought (Well, duh!)  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
"See, Trowa? That wasn't so bad," said Duo as they approached the hospital on the medical wing of MO II. "Just dinner among friends."  
  
"I enjoyed it," conceded Trowa, "but I still wish that Quatre was there too."  
  
"Winner is recuperating," said Wufei, "he needs rest if he wants to get his strength back."  
  
"Besides," said Duo, "he is already getting better. He has some color in his face and the doctor took the stitches out yesterday. Now he can move without collapsing from the pain. "   
  
"I know he's getting better but I'm still worried about him. That was a dangerous wound," said Trowa.   
  
The group entered the medical wing, ignoring the nurse trying to tell them that the visiting hours were over. The poor girl was new; she had never encountered the Gundam pilots and didn't even know who the young men in front of her were. She got up from her chair and stepped in front of the boys, blocking their path. Heero simply glared at her and she instinctively took a step back.  
  
Duo looked at Heero and rolled his eyes. "Would you stop that? You are scaring her."   
  
Heero stopped glaring at the nurse and turned his gaze on Duo. Duo ignored him and approached the nurse. "I know that the visiting hours are over," he said, giving her his most charming smile. "But we really want to see our friend. I promise we won't disturb him, I'm sure he'll be happy to see us."  
  
The girl smiled back at Duo and nodded. "Fine, but only for a few minutes. It is very late and the patients need rest. Who is your friend?"  
  
"His name is Quatre Winner. He is staying in room 206," answered Duo.  
  
After hearing those words the nurse visibly paled. All of them noticed the expression on the woman's face. Something had happened to Quatre.   
  
"What is it?" asked Wufei.  
  
"He is gone," she answered after a moment of hesitation.  
  
"Gone?" inquired Heero, "What do you mean gone?"  
  
The nurse took another step back. The look on the boys' faces clearly said that someone was going to pay if they didn't get an answer soon. "A couple of hours ago the machines in Mr. Winner room were disconnected. We rushed in there to see what was going on but when we got there, the room was empty. We searched the whole hospital but we couldn't find him." She stopped for a moment and went back to her desk to retrieve something. "He left this on his bed," she said handing Duo a letter. "I'm sorry but I can't read this language so I don't know what it says."  
  
"Thanks," said Duo, taking the letter and walking away from the nurse so he and the rest of the pilots could read it in private. When he was sure that they wouldn't be heard by the nurse he handed the letter to Wufei. "It is in Mandarin," he said, answering the silent question.  
  
Wufei simply nodded, took the letter and started reading and translating. "Heero, Duo, Trowa and Wufei:   
  
In the past year, I have had the honor of knowing you and fighting beside you. You have become more than my comrades and I consider each one of you a friend. I wish I could say goodbye to you personally but that is, sadly, not an option.   
  
I'm sorry, I know you are all mad at me- especially you, Trowa, but this is something I have to do.   
  
I wish you all the best. Maybe someday our paths will cross again, until then, know that I have each of you in my heart.   
  
Take care.  
  
-Quatre"  
  
There was a moment of silence that was broken by Duo's quiet question. "Does anybody else find this weird? I mean, this is Quatre we are talking about! He wouldn't leave us, especially not Trowa, not without saying goodbye."  
  
Heero nodded. "He wasn't fully recovered. I don't think he is the type to endanger his heath without some reason."   
  
"What do you think, Trowa?" asked Duo.  
  
Trowa took a moment to answer, like he was gathering his thoughts. "I noticed that he was acting strangely earlier today. He was distracted by something. I thought that he just wanted to be alone, that's why I agreed to go out to dinner. I should have known that he was planning something."  
  
"We won the war thanks to Winner's plans and he is very capable of putting them into practice. This shouldn't come as a shock to any of us."  
  
"That just worries me more," said Duo. "If Quatre didn't want us to find out what he was doing, that could only mean that he is putting himself in danger. He is a great guy but he can be as stubborn as a mule when he wants to."  
  
"Let's go," said Heero as he started walking to the door.  
  
"Go where?" asked Duo.  
  
"To find Quatre."  
  
* * *  
  
Quatre extended his arms and allowed the captain to lock the handcuffs on them.  
  
Dorothy was already half way to MO II and he had completed the transfer of the money to the captain's account so there was only one part of the agreement left to fulfill.   
  
He didn't mind. In fact, when he left his hospital bed, he was prepared to give up his freedom in exchange of hers. Neither of them were saints; they had both fought in a war and their hands were covered with blood. However, Quatre thought that Dorothy was lost and a holding cell wasn't the place in which she would be able to find herself.   
  
Quatre knew something about Dorothy that nobody else did, not even her. Dorothy Catalonia wasn't the cold woman she pretended to be; she was capable of love.   
  
It wasn't something you could see. She was very careful about hiding everything she felt, even from herself, but Quatre Winner was no ordinary person. He had first noticed it when he and Heero had spent time on the Sank Kingdom. Quatre, as everyone else, had seen Dorothy interact with Relena. She had politely questioned everything Relena said and he had recognized the condescending tone, many society people used when they tried to hide their hatred for somebody. But the blond pilot wasn't seeing with his eyes, he was using his heart - and his heart never lied.  
  
Dorothy needed help. She needed someone to notice her the way she really was and not the hard exterior she projected. Relena had, somehow, opened up a door for the person Dorothy could be and Quatre, with a single act of kindness, had shown her the way. Now Dorothy needed to trust enough to let that person out.   
  
Quatre believed she could do it, which was why it was so important to get her out. If Dorothy remained locked up, she would shut herself off again, and everything Quatre, Relena and even Trowa had helped to do, would be lost. If Quatre took her place, he would only sacrifice his freedom but if he let Dorothy remain imprisoned, he would sacrifice her soul.   
  
The young man followed the guard quietly to the cell he had seen before. The guard opened the door and Quatre could tell that the man was thinking about shoving him inside but something, maybe instinct, told him that that wasn't a smart thing to do.   
  
After Quatre walked in to the room, he stopped for a moment to study his surroundings. There were one hundred and twelve people in the cell. Thirty eight women and seventy four men. The room had four doors. The one he had just came in, one gate at the opposite wall and two small doors on the right. He assumed those were the bathrooms since there was a line of people waiting outside to use them.   
  
As soon as he heard the wall close behind him, Quatre walked to the front left corner and sat against the wall. From a strategic point of view, that was the safest place. A corner provided him with cover in two flanks so he could only be attacked from the front and one of his sides. To get to the back corners he would have to cross the entire room and that would leave him open to any assaults. The right corner was near the bathroom it would be more crowded than the other one. He needed to be at a safe distance so he could see everyone and determine if they were potential enemies.   
  
The captain's remarks about fighting were still fresh in Quatre's mind and he knew, from experience, that people usually underestimated him for the way he looked. He really was in no mood to prove them wrong.   
  
He didn't know how long he would stay on the ship. The captain had told him that they would start sending prisoners to Earth the next morning, so they could be placed in a real holding facility until the day of their trials. The ship number 01517 wasn't equipped to transport passengers so they would have to use smaller shuttles to get them to their destination. The evacuation of the ship could take some time since most of the shuttles were busy transporting the soldiers back to their homes. The prisoners would have to wait.   
  
As he sat in the corner of the cell, Quatre only regretted not being able to say goodbye to his friends. He didn't know if he would ever see them again and that brought sadness to his heart. All of them would be greatly missed, especially Trowa.  
  
Quatre's thoughts drifted to the Heavyarms' pilot. They weren't involved - the war hadn't given them time for that, but they cared about each other and they both knew it. He couldn't say that he loved Trowa, not yet, but he knew in his heart that given the chance, he would fall in love with the tall pilot in no time. It seemed that he had missed that chance and he only hoped that Trowa could forgive him for that.  
  
* * *  
  
"He what?" asked Duo, who was standing behind Heero and reading the information displayed on the screen.  
  
"He stole a Taurus suit and went to the Romefeller ship number 01517."  
  
"I herd you the first time, Heero," said Duo. "It was a rhetorical question."   
  
"According to these files, that ship is being used as a temporary holding compound," commented Wufei from his seat in front of another monitor.   
  
"What would Quatre be doing there?" asked Duo.   
  
Trowa sighed; he had a good idea of what the blond would be doing there. Quatre was too compassionate for his own good.  
  
"Do you know something we don't, Trowa?" asked Duo, noticing the worry concealed on Trowa's features.   
  
Before Trowa could answer Heero interrupted them. "There is a signal indicating that the Taurus Quatre stole is headed back here and should arrive in six minutes."  
  
"What are we waiting for?" asked Duo as he headed for the landing platform. "Let's go and welcome the guy and while we are at it, we can also break him a finger or two for worrying us so damn much!"  
  
Heero and Wufei nodded and followed Duo to the platform. Trowa went behind the last two, silently observing the way their bodies tensed, just a little bit. He knew that even if they didn't want to, Heero and Wufei had learned to care about the blond Arab and they too wanted to inflict him some physical pain for disappearing the way he had.  
  
The pilots soon arrived at the platform and remained silent as they waited for the Taurus suit to arrive. They stayed behind the door until the mobile suit entered the hangar and the outer gates were closed. As soon as the room pressure was returned to normal and it was safe to go in without a plug suit, the pilots rushed to the Taurus.  
  
What they saw when the hatch opened wasn't what they were expecting. Instead of Quatre emerging from the suit, they were met by a woman with long blonde hair, who only two pilots recognized.   
  
* * *  
  
"Dorothy Catalonia." The words left Heero's lips and not a moment later he had taken the gun from his back and pointed it in her direction.   
  
Dorothy simply gave him one of her smiles and spoke in a neutral tone of voice that didn't show any fear, "Heero Yuy, how nice to see you again."  
  
"So this is the bitch that tried to kill Quatre?" asked the pilot she recognized as Duo Maxwell. He too took his gun out and pointed it her way. "If we didn't want to know where the hell Quatre is, you wouldn't be alive right now."  
  
This was the first time that she realized that she didn't know where the blond pilot had gone. "Since he didn't come with me or in another suit, it's obvious to assume that he either stayed on the ship or went somewhere else," replied Dorothy calmly.  
  
"We need an explanation right now! What happened to Winner?"   
  
For a moment, Dorothy hesitated. "He negotiated my release from the holding ship," she said, trying to bring as much coldness to her voice as she could. She had already hesitated and that was bad enough. She didn't need the pilots to see her own confusion. Why had Quatre stayed behind?  
  
"What were the terms of that negotiation?" asked the same pilot that had spoken before. His name was Chang Wufei, if she was not mistaken.   
  
"I didn't ask," answered Dorothy, bringing back all the polite superiority into her voice. "It's rude to intrude on other people's business."  
  
"He probably bribed a guard or something," said Duo.  
  
"Yes, but that wouldn't explain why he didn't came back," retorted Wufei.  
  
"He took her place," said Trowa, speaking for the first time.   
  
Everyone was silent for a moment and let the meaning of Trowa's words sink in. Dorothy felt another piece of her mask breaking when she realized what Quatre had truly done to get her out. 'He sacrificed himself, for me. Why?'   
  
* * *  
  
"Wait a moment, Trowa, 'cause I want to be sure that I understood what you said. Are you telling us that Quatre is now locked in a cell so the bitch that tried to kill him could go free?" asked Duo.  
  
"He begged me to spare her life before; I'm really not surprised that he would do something like this," replied Trowa. His voice was calm but inside Trowa was furious. Quatre could be really selfish sometimes without even noticing it. Yes, it was easy to self-sacrifice but he wasn't thinking how his actions affected the people around him. Trowa would rather be locked up himself than be free, knowing that Quatre wasn't. They both knew that they were attracted to each other and after the doctors had declared that Quatre was out of danger, Trowa was hoping that they could finally act on their feelings. But now, Quatre had condemned them both.   
  
Trowa looked at Dorothy coldly. Was she really worth a life time of wondering what could have been? Trowa was using all his self control to just stand there and look at her. He was frustrated and the person responsible for that was standing in front of him looking calm and collected, as if nothing had happened.  
  
* * *  
  
Unfortunately, Trowa couldn't read minds and was oblivious of the torment Dorothy was going through. She never thought she would see the day when another human being would do something for her without expecting something in return. Never could have she imagined that one day, someone would give up his freedom to save her. Why? What was in it for Quatre Winner? Her mind kept telling her that there had to be something, that there was not such thing as a selfless act but no matter how hard she looked; she couldn't find an ulterior motive.   
  
The four men in front of her obviously had no problem killing her; why couldn't Quatre be like that? It wasn't that he was incapable of taking a human life; he had taken many during the war, so what made her so special? She wasn't a kind person or an innocent. She had led the mobile dolls in battle and tried to kill him repeatedly, so what did he see in her?   
  
And then it hit her. Like she had opened her eyes for the first time and was finally able to see the person Quatre Winner was. He cared, he truly cared about people and he had saved her because he thought that there was something in her worth saving. That's when Dorothy started to question everything she believed about herself and a little voice kept telling her that maybe Quatre was right, that maybe there was still hope.  
  
* * *  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

**Inverse**

**By Misanagi**

Rating: PG 13

Warnings: Angst, violence.

Pairings: 3x4x3, D+R

Spoilers: The end of the series.

Timeline: After the battle of Libra.

Summary: Quatre rescues Dorothy from imprisonment, hoping to give her a new chance of living.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters used in this fic.

Archive: 

Feedback: Yes please! misanagi_zzz@hotmail.com 

Thanks to: Anne and Ruth for beta reading and all the helpful suggestions, you are the best!

Notes: I wrote this for Hex-sama and her mailing list, Lady Wing. ()

Chapter 3

She wasn't proud of what had happened. She always thought of herself as a strong person and she took pride in the fact that her distance from the world had allowed her to acquire an apathy that protected her. That's why she didn't like the fact that she had frozen in front of the Gundam pilots. 

They noticed right away, of course. She wasn't a fool and would never underestimate their powers of observation. Normally she was a great actress- keeping others away from your thoughts was essential - but at that moment, all of her energy was busy trying to get a hold of something to stop the long fall down the rabbit hole. A wave of dizziness hit her and her mind snapped back into place; the mask was firmly on and the coldness back on her eyes.

It was too late, it could be seen in their eyes; she had been discovered. 

Heero Yuy was looking at her. His eyes were fixed on hers and she felt as if those blue orbs were looking at her very soul. She felt naked, bared of all the layers that protected her, but no matter how vulnerable she felt, she would hold her ground. Her eyes never lowered and if it wasn't for Duo's words they pair would probably still be standing there, neither willing to admit defeat. 

"There is no way I'm going to sit back and let someone like Quatre stay behind bars."

Both Heero and Dorothy looked at him at the same time.   
  


"Let's go," said Heero, turning around and heading straight for one of three space Leos suits that were in the hangar. 

Wufei and Duo followed him without saying a word. Trowa walked past Dorothy and climbed into the recently vacated Taurus. She noticed how he immediately checked the fuel level and the working state of the machine. When he was done he looked at her, his expression as cold as Heero's. "He has giving you something no one else could; the rest is up to you, don't waste his gift."

The hatch closed and the rational part of Dorothy made her walk to the door and get into the pressurized part of the satellite before the gates opened and the four mobile suits ventured though space. 

She didn't want to think anymore. There wasn't a logical thought left in her brain. When someone thinks, they use the basis and limits of what they know to analyze any situation and come to a conclusion; but now, Dorothy was empty, all the limitations were gone and there was a big void in her that she couldn't comprehend. 

She looked at the stars as she stood in silence, marveling at the world she was seeing for the first time. 

*   *   *

Trowa maneuvered with the controls of the Taurus, keeping a good velocity towards the ship. The trip wasn't challenging at all, even less for someone used to handling a much complex piece of machinery and under more difficult circumstances. Piloting a mobile suit was second nature to him and that was a useful skill since his mind was somewhere else. 

When he had last seen Quatre he had noticed that there was something weird going on. It wasn't normal for the blond pilot to space out but he had been doing that the whole day. Trowa knew that Quatre was improving and that was the only reason why he agreed to go out that night, that and the look on Quatre's eyes when he had said that he wanted Trowa to go. 

Trowa snorted, he should have known better. 

Quatre was too stubborn for his own good and sometimes too kind.  How well could he know Dorothy Catalonia? Why did he care so much?

Trowa would be annoyed if he didn't care for Quatre so much. He was angry but he didn't know what to do with that emotion. He couldn't be angry at Quatre - as much as he wanted to, and the blond deserved it, Trowa just couldn't manage to blame him for what he had done. Caring was a part of Quatre, even if sometimes it put the Arabian in adverse situations but Trowa accepted him the way he was. 

Before he left MO II, Trowa had thought that Dorothy was responsible for what had happened and all his rage had been directed towards her. But Trowa had seen the look on Dorothy's face when she realized just what Quatre had done for her. It lasted only a second - Dorothy was very talented at hiding her emotions - but for a moment Trowa had seen a completely different person than the one he had met inside the Libra.  

A sigh escaped Trowa's lips as he saw the ship in front of him. Quatre had managed to do something Trowa hadn't thought was possible, now Trowa only hoped that the blond pilot was safe and that they weren't too late. 

*   *   *

The good thing was that the medication was finally wearing off and Quatre was feeling more alert and less tired than before. The bad thing was that the pain was returning in full force. 

Quatre resisted the urge to grab his side, he knew it wouldn't help at all and that it would alert anyone observing that he had a weakness. He could feel their eyes on him and he knew that it was just a matter of time before there would be trouble. 

He had left the hospital room in a rush and didn't have time to look for some lock picks to take with him. It was something he was used to doing whenever he left a room. Gun, check; two extra clips, check; knife, check; electronic key, check; spare gun, check; extra clip, check; lock picks, check. He had only taken one gun, the knife and the electronic key; he had never felt more naked before. The war was over but old habits die hard and it was too soon for Quatre to just kick back and relax. 

The captain had insisted on searching him before he was taken into the cell. Quatre didn't protest and willingly surrendered his weapons. He was very capable of taking care of himself but he wished he had those lock picks and was able to take those handcuffs off. 

The looks he was receiving were getting more intense by the minute. Quatre took a deep breath as another wave of pain hit him. From the outsider's point of view Quatre looked calm and collected but the pain he was experiencing would have any other man curling in a ball and begging for morphine. 

It was going to be a challenge and he knew that. Quatre kept his eyes on the wall in front of him, seemingly ignoring the five men he could feel approaching. He adjusted his position slightly, every muscle in his body ready to move at a moment's notice.  

One of them was injured; he was limping slightly and his left wrist was held protectively near his chest. The man was foolish to underestimate Quatre and attack when he was injured. The short one was probably the most dangerous; he hadn't taken his eyes away from Quatre and he was being more careful in his approach. The tall one behind him was second in command, he followed the other one's movements and that indicated that he wouldn't act if the small one wasn't helping him. The two that were on the front of the group were obviously of no real concern. Thugs, they walked carelessly without evaluating the situation, talking with each other and they weren't even paying attention to Quatre. That was not the way you approached a potential target.   

The group stopped in front of Quatre and he directed his eyes towards them as if he had just noticed them. He didn't stand, and he promptly looked away like he wasn't interested at all in what the men wanted. It worked; he wasn't looking at them but he could just see the smirks disappearing from their faces. 

Quatre didn't want to fight but he read people too well; he didn't doubt that the men in front of him would give him trouble no matter what. He decided that the best thing he could do was show them, as quickly as possible, that he wasn't a good person to mess with. 

"So, you're the new kid in town?" Quatre heard one of the thugs say. 

"You noticed," replied the blond, without even bothering to look at the man who had spoken to him. It was not an easy role for him to play; he hated being cold and rude, but he knew that it was the best strategy and the fastest way to deal with those men.

"These are the rules; we're in charge here and you do things our way," commented the second thug. 

Quatre barely stopped the snort that came with the image of those guys in charge of anything. Instead he kept ignoring them and said nothing.

He could feel the tension rise even more; the guys were getting annoyed. 

"If you want our protection you'll have to pay a fee, like all the others and if you refuse… well let's just say things may get a little shaky, if you know what I mean." 

"I don't need anyone's protection," said Quatre in a bored tone. The brat was so much easier to play. 

The man was really slow. Quatre saw the hit coming before the man even finished pulling his leg back to kick him. He got up in a flash, dodged the kick and used the force of it to throw the man off balance, delivering a quick and effective hit to his back, the steel around his wrists helping to magnify the effect of it. Thug number one had hit the floor. 

He stood facing the other men and used his best bored expression. Inside, he was paying for his fast movements and his injury was hurting even worse than when he got it. He was hoping that the adrenaline rush would hit him soon. He was going to need it.

The injured man took a step back, showing a little more intelligence than Quatre had first given him credit for. The second thug was about to charge at him when the short man stopped him. He took a step forward and stood just in front of Quatre. They were almost the same height but Quatre knew that you can't judge an opponent based only on appearance; that had been the thug's mistake. 

"That was very impressive, where did you learn it?" asked the short man.

"I picked it up in the war," answered Quatre. It was a good reply; it gave the guy an idea but it was vague enough not give anything important away. 

"If you are here, I guess you fought on the losing side too."

"There are no winners in a war," said Quatre in an uninterested voice that hid the true depth of his words. 

"Yes there are. Those people out there laughing and partying while we rot in here, won."

"I wouldn't call dealing with a broken world and the consequences of a war, winning. A person who lost everyone close to him isn't a winner, a family who no longer has a home and is now living on the streets has won nothing and the soldier who fought for the sake of peace has only won years of nightmares."  Quatre could feel the anger building inside him. If the world didn't understand the price everyone had to pay for the peace they were still trying to build, then all was lost. 

The short man didn't look pleased at all. Quatre could see his body tensing as he was getting ready to attack. "Are you with us or against us?" he asked, looking Quatre in the eye. 

"I don't think sides are needed anymore," said Quatre and immediately used his hands to block the blow aimed at his head. Not a moment later he kicked the man back, sending him right into the arms of his tall follower.  

Quatre could feel all the eyes in the room directed at him, they silently pitied the fate of the boy who had dared to defy those men. Well, Quatre would just have to prove them wrong -  if his wound would allow him. 

*   *   *

As soon as the outer doors were closed and the pressure of the room stabilized, Trowa and the other pilots opened the hatch and exited the mobile suits. The room was soon filled with seven soldiers who were obviously expecting them.

"We only let you through because we have strict orders not to shoot any mobile suits. It's peace time, after all," said the soldier who appeared to be in charge. "State your business and be on your way, or we'll be forced to put you in detention."

Duo grinned and looked at the man, "Well, since it was such a beautiful day in space, we thought we could drop in, check your elegant establishment, share some war stories, and free a prisoner. You know, the usual."

The soldier was quiet for a moment. "Take them to the captain!" he finally screamed, not looking at all amused by Duo's words. 

Five of the men circled the pilots and motioned them to walk through a door. "Don't try anything funny," said one of them as he pointed his gun at Duo's head. 

The pilots walked silently through the narrow metal corridors. There was one soldier leading the way with Heero and Wufei behind him. Following them and with their guns trained at their heads, were two other soldiers. Trowa and Duo walked silently behind them, with two other guards at their tail. 

The narrow corridor put the soldiers at a clear disadvantage; Trowa noticed it and he knew the others had too. The soldiers should have kept their distance, especially if they didn't know the capabilities of the enemy. It was their mistake and they would pay for it. 

It happened simultaneously and they didn't even have to signal each other to do it. Wufei hit the collarbone of the man in front of him, sending him quickly to unconsciousness. Heero dropped to the floor and swiped the legs of the men behind him, putting them off balance. As soon as they hit the floor he pressed a point on their necks to make them fall asleep instantly.

Duo hadn't even turned around. He simply used his elbow to make the soldier drop his weapon and then a swift kick to the stomach did the trick. Trowa turned around and took the gun from the soldier's hands before he had time to react. He used the same technique as Heero and the soldier soon fell to the floor. 

Not a shot had been fired, not a sound had been made. 

They grabbed the soldiers' weapons, not because they needed them - they each had their own - but because you didn't leave behind an armed fallen enemy. 

"Seven minutes," said Heero simply.

They all understood and started running to the end of the hall, the soldiers' weapons still in their hands. 

*   *   * 

Those cuffs were really starting to bug him. They had their advantage and Quatre had made sure to use them as best as he could but when he was fighting four men he really wished he could have more mobility with his hands. 

The injured man was almost out of the fight. Quatre had aimed his blows to his wrists and the guy was one blow away from quitting. The thug had fallen quickly. He was careless and Quatre had used the small chain of his handcuffs to asphyxiate him enough to knock him out. The thug was currently on the floor next to his friend and breathing, as far as Quatre could see. 

The blond pilot really hated that. He didn't like fighting and injuring people but he wasn't going to just let them beat him to a pulp for refusing to do things their way. He hadn't fought a war simply to surrender to the first group of brutes he had encountered.

The tall man was trying to kick him from behind. Quatre sensed him and turned around, quickly delivering a kick of his own. The tall man hit the floor but Quatre knew he wouldn't be down for long. He took a deep breath and tried to refocus on the fight. All his senses were alert and his body moved more by instinct than by thought. Maybe that was why he didn't notice that he had managed to reopen his wound during the fight. 

He was bleeding and unfortunately the short man noticed it before him. Quatre moved just in time to deflect the sharp kick that was aimed at his side but the man's foot still managed to brush his injury. The movement was too fast and Quatre fell to the floor, landing sharply on his shoulder. His mind quickly supplied that his shoulder was just bruised, his injury on the other hand… 

Quatre moved to stand but stopped when he saw the sole of a shoe racing rapidly towards his face. His cuffed hands were quckly pushed in front of his face and absorbed the blow. The blond grunted as he felt the steel press against his skin. 

He was down and outnumbered, that simply wasn't good. 

Quatre ignored the pain and managed to get on his hands and knees but when he was about to stand up, the short guy delivered a blow just into his injury. He collapsed again, his hands pressing the wound and trying to stop the bleeding. 

"Now you are finished," said the short guy as he threw his foot back to kick Quatre again. 

But the action was never completed and the short man collapsed with a surprised look on his face. Heero Yuy stood behind him with an angry look only his friends would notice. 

The tall man had fallen after a couple of Trowa's blows, and the injured man was backing away like the coward he was. 

Quatre groaned as he put his hands on the floor and gathered the strength necessary to get up. He got to his knees and panted. A hand was put in front of him and he gladly took it. The help was much needed, his side was hurting worse than he could remember and he was feeling weaker by the moment. 

He let himself use the body beside him as a crutch, that was something he would never do unless he trusted the person and Quatre trusted Duo Maxwell with his life. 

"Let's go," said Heero as he waked calmly towards the door, where Wufei was waiting for them, his eyes scanning the crowd for signs of any trouble. There was none; the crowd of prisoners parted quickly at the sight of the armed young men.

Duo took the cuffs off Quatre's hands in a matter of seconds and the blond heard the American wince after he saw the red marks on his wrists. 

"Oh man," said Duo very softly so that only Quatre could hear him. "I would hate to be in your shoes, Trowa's going to kill you."

*   *   *

Leaving the ship was relatively simple. The captain and the five armed men were still unconscious and the two guards left at the hangar decided that facing four armed men by themselves wasn't worth it. 

The only problem left was transportation. Everyone but Quatre had a mobile suit to use but the cockpits were too small to fit two people. 

Trowa walked to a Leo suit that was at one of the corners of the hangar. He got in and checked the system and fuel to work out if the machine was in good condition. After he was sure everything was okay, he signaled Duo to bring Quatre. They both helped the Arabian to get inside. 

"I need to erase all the programs to be sure that they can't control the suit after we launch," said Trowa as he hacked into the suit's computer. "That means we can't preprogram it to take you to MO II"

Quatre simply nodded. Trowa could see the pain and exhaustion in his eyes but decided that this wasn't the time to talk to the Arabian. Trowa knew Quatre too well and there was no way the Sandrock pilot was going to listen to him at that precise moment. 

"You don't have to pilot," Trowa told the blond, keeping his worries hidden for the time being. "We can tow you if it's necessary."

Quatre shook his head. "I've piloted in a worst state, I think I can manage the short trip to the satellite," he said in a confident voice.

Trowa didn't buy it. He knew that Quatre was very good at hiding his pain behind the polite mask but the white shirt the Arabian wore, now covered in red, was enough to give him an idea of the pain his friend must be in. 

"You need to save your strength; we are only stopping at MO II to get our Gundams and then we'll leave," said Trowa simply. 

Quatre looked confused for a moment but he hid the emotion quickly. "Where are we going then?"

"I'll tell you over the com link. We need to go now and we are wasting time."

Trowa saw Quatre nod before he closed the hatch. 

"That suit is property of this ship, you can't take it!" screamed the soldier who had received them when they arrived. 

"We are just borrowing it," said Duo as he got into the Leo he was using. "You can pick it up at MO II in an hour or so."

The soldier looked as if he wanted to say something more but Duo's hatch was already closed. Trowa ignored the man and got into the Taurus. "I suggest you get out of the room and open the gate," he said casually to the soldier. "We don't want to be forced to use the beams to open it."

Trowa saw the look of surprise and fear on the soldier's eyes before the hatch closed. He powered up the suit, checked the systems as usual and prepared for take off. The gate was soon opened and the five suits launched into space. 

Quatre's tired face appeared at Trowa's screen. "So where are we going after we get the Gundams?" asked the blond, failing miserably to hide the pain in his voice. 

"To visit some of your friends," answered Trowa. "The Maguanac ship is waiting for us twenty minutes north of MO II." 

*   *   *

Quatre sat on his bed looking at Trowa. It had been a long day. He had hardly managed to get Sandrock into the Maguanac ship; he was getting weak from the blood lost and the pain in his wound wasn't helping at all. 

The look that Rashid gave him when he saw him get out of Sandrock told the Arabian that after Trowa was done with him, Rashid would take care of whatever was left, if there was something. 

Quatre's wound had been stitched closed and the pain killers he had in his system were making life more bearable, a little dim but bearable. He knew that he would fall asleep soon but he wanted to talk to Trowa before that; it was important.

"Why did you do it," asked Trowa after a long moment of silence, his eyes fixed on a distant point on the wall. 

"I needed to," said Quatre simply. He realized that Trowa already knew the answer to his question but needed to ask it anyway.

"You need to stop this, Quatre. One of these days you are going to get yourself killed." Trowa slowly moved his eyes from the wall and rested them on Quatre. His face held a blank expression but those green eyes spoke volumes. Trowa was scared. 

Quatre moved his hand and placed it on Trowa's shoulder. "Maybe, but no one lives forever and that is not a bad way to go."

Trowa's eyes changed before Quatre even finished his sentence. They were angry now. "That's a quick way to go too. I won't let you sacrifice yourself… us, anymore."

Silence.

"Us?" asked Quatre, almost in a whisper.

Trowa's eyes had to be the most expressive things he had ever seen. They were now filled with care. "I don't know what we have right now, Quatre, but I would like to explore what could be. I can't do that if you are no longer with me and I don't want to spend my life asking myself 'what if'."

Quatre smiled. A genuine smile that he knew at the moment he would only share with Trowa. "I would like to explore that too," he said and rested his head on Trowa's shoulder, letting sleep take him over. 

*   *   *

She was standing in front of the big metallic doors that separated her from the former Queen of the World. Her head was held high and her blonde hair was falling down her back in the wavy locks that had resulted after she finally let it free from the braid. The uniform that she had worn until moments ago had been substituted for a simple but elegant dark green dress. 

On the outside, Dorothy looked ready to meet with one of the most influential people of the world, on the inside she felt more insecure than she had ever felt in her whole life. If she were a coward, she would have simply ran, there was nothing keeping her on that satellite but that strange and new sense of wonder she had acquired or found only a few hours ago. 

There was a part of Dorothy that was screaming for her to get out but that other one, the one that had been mute all those years and that just recently had gotten a voice, was calmly telling her that she was walking the correct path. She didn't know where that path would lead but she did know that the next step was Miss Relena's office.

After taking one deep breath, she knocked once and waited. 

"Come in," said a voice from inside the room. 

Dorothy pushed the button that would let the door slide open and bowed her head just a bit. She always did that when she met Miss Relena. The small bow showed respect but Dorothy's eyes never lowered; she always kept her gaze fixed on the other woman, letting her know that her respect didn't mean her submission.

Relena was sitting behind a desk and she looked up from the paper she was reading. Dorothy could see the surprise on the other woman's face but it was quickly hidden by the political façade Relena Peacecraft wore so well. 

"Dorothy, I didn't expect to see you here," said Relena in a calm and controlled tone that Dorothy knew was just a clever mask for all the questions she wouldn't voice.  

Dorothy could never expect something like that from herself either. It had been only a few days and everything she had built in several years had crumbled at her feet. The weird part was that she felt liberated; like someone had finally released her from the world of illusions she had trapped herself in. 

Now, she was facing a different world, one that didn't obey any of the laws that she had created. She felt like she was walking over stained glass windows and that at any moment she would make a false movement and the glass would shatter at her feet, taking with it this new world she had recently discovered.  

It was a scary road to travel but she had made a decision, she needed to try. The world was moving in an unfamiliar pattern and the only thing that remained still was the woman in front of her. 

"In life, Miss Relena, we are often faced with the unexpected."

-Owari


End file.
